


Property of Captain Cold

by RedHead



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Not Beta Read, One Shot, PWP, Sex, Smut, a bit fluffy, barry is oblivious, except i'm not great at writing fluff so it's mostly them snarking at each other, mostly - Freeform, possessive!len
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:04:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4003411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHead/pseuds/RedHead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry realizes he’s been dating Captain Cold for months, and Len makes sure everyone else knows it too. Prompt fill from my tumblr giveaway. </p><p>Prompt in author's notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Property of Captain Cold

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [[授权翻译]寒冷队长所有物/Property of Captain Cold](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4099900) by [kiy900](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiy900/pseuds/kiy900)



> Prompt: Possessive Len who marks Barry all to hell before sending him back to Wells so he knows who Barry belongs to. Bonus points for "Property of Cold" on Barry.
> 
> PS – I went for the bonus points; I’m a classic over-achiever.

“Len, you’ve ready gotta’— _ah_ —at least wait till I'm— _mmm_ —c’mon, I'm still in the suit!”

That didn’t seem to be stopping Len anytime soon though as the other kissed and sucked down the side of his neck, hands deftly unzipping Barry’s costume, fingers having memorized the tricky zippers and catches. They’d been at this game for months—Captain Cold setting up a heist, the Flash, if he was around and could, foiling said heist, and then tumbling together into Len’s apartment or a nearby safe house or hell, a nearby alleyway—frantic undressing followed by passionate sex. They’d made it to Len’s place this time. It had been a little touch and go, sorting out the rules of engagement over the past few months, and figuring they were allowed to sleep together outside of just heists (like tonight), but they’d both skirted the issue okay until then.

“I like the suit,” Len nipped his ear.

Barry laughed a bit, Len was ridiculous sometimes. Well, more than sometimes. Pretty much anytime he put on that parka and pulled out the puns. Barry had long-since figured out that when Len said he enjoyed the rush of stealing, what he really meant was he enjoyed playing games and creating new challenges for himself, and so long he wasn’t hurting anyone, Barry was more than happy being part of that entertainment. The fact that they were monogamously seeing each other was only a coincidence, they were both too busy for other partners anyway, and the fact that Len sometimes bought him dinner or anonymously sent take out to his work was really just because the other wanted him in top shape for their next meetings.

“You know the sooner I get out of it, the sooner we can…”

Len pulled back, eyes dark, but then said, “I want to take it _slow_ tonight, take you apart.”

And oh if that didn’t make him shiver. “What brought this on?” He was peeling his arms out of the tripolymer sleeves, body still pressed against the wood paneling along the wall inside of Len’s bedroom. It was the easiest place to meet after Barry was done canvassing the city for the evening, that was all.

Len nipped his jaw and helped pull back the gloves of the suit before taking Barry’s hands in his own and massaging each finger, one by one, sliding his own digits up and down along Barry’s in a way that was altogether too suggestive and should not be as tantalizing at it was. He inhaled sharply when Len matched the movements with his mouth, sucking on his neck—and god hadn’t they made a no marks rule? Like, an unofficial one but Len was definitely ignoring it right now and he was definitely going to have red and—oh fuck that felt good—maybe purple marks on his—how did Len even find such a sensitive spot—

“Ah, this is— _amazing_ —and all, but—ah—”

“Mm?” Len had taken his hands and gently pressed them back against the wall so he could tease the rest of Barry’s body, skimming his sides, front, exposed nipples, making him shiver. “You were saying?” he mumbled against the junction of clavicle and shoulder, where his tongue was lapping at a bruise.

“Oh, right,” he was really rather distracted and the suit was too damn tight in a very particular region. “Ah, just wondering why the, mmm, territorial marking? You’re being a little— _hah_!”

Len bit into his shoulder when he said it, and yeah he knew that Barry loved how it felt, the bastard. “Possessive?”

Yes, exactly, but he didn’t get a chance to answer because Len had grabbed his face in his hands and was kissing him again, hard and heavy, tongue fucking into his mouth and okay, this was more the speed he was craving, dragging Len’s own sweater up and off. They had to break the kiss to drag the shirts off but rejoined just as fast, and finally he could get his hands on all that _skin_ of Len’s—his strong biceps, shoulders, his long back, muscled front, and then down to his belt, about to take this to where he _really_ wanted—

“I said _slow_ , Scarlet.”

He groaned in frustration, head hitting the wood behind him. “You’re really gonna’ drive me insane, aren’t you?”

Len chuckled low and started dragging him by his hips toward the bed. “You earned it, you know.”

That was news to Barry. He tumbled back into the bed, “How, exactly, did I earn this?” Len’s hands were pulling him out of his pants though, and his underwear, and he couldn't spare too much thought to think about it, because those hands were sliding over _exactly_ where Barry wanted them and Len's lips were pressing kisses to his abs.

Then Len licked a stripe up his front and leaned up to leer down at him, eyes predatory. “You spent your week flirting with Harrison Wells.”

“ _WHAT_?!” That was a blatant—“That is a blatant lie!” He was leaning up on his elbows, suddenly very aware of his nudity, legs framing Len who was leaning over him.

“Oh is it?” It was, but Len kept talking, even as his hands were smoothing over Barry’s abs, fingernails dragging enough to make him shiver, sliding down his sensitive sides, “Then what do you call going to a lecture with him Monday night?” Len kissed his neck, licked over the bruises there, revisiting them, darkening them so they’d stay and he found himself stretching his neck out to let him. “And Tuesday lunch? And Thursday, staying late at STAR labs? And—”

Wait wait wait—“Len—have you been _stalking_ m— _Ah_!” Of course he took that second to _finally_ reach down and grip Barry’s weeping erection. He bucked his hips up on the last syllable, eager and Len’s thumb ran over the slit and _fuck_ the man was trying to distract him, kissing his ribs now, sucking even on that flesh, lips trailing down, “I’m still- _mmm_ —waiting for an answer, Lenny.”

Len licked his abs as he crossed over to the other side of Barry’s body to leave marks there too, one hand deftly stroking him and the other holding down his hips, and he was starting to drown in the sensations but definitely wasn’t gonna’ let Len off too easily. Len sucking on the hollow of hip, making him gasp and shudder, wasn’t gonna’ distract him, no sir, just—

“Fuck, Len, that’s— _ah_!” The man knew how to drive him totally wild.

“Not stalking, Scarlet,” he pulled back, then dragged one of Barry’s hands forward and drew two fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them, sucking, and Barry’s head dropped back as he groaned. It was hot and wet and the hand on his cock kept stroking a slow and steady motion that suddenly felt like not near enough, on edge. Len was such a fucking tease.

His mouth pulled back with a pop, grinning at Barry. “Keeping tabs. And is it so bad to keep tabs on my boyfriend and who he spends his evenings with?”

Boyfriend? “Boyfriend?” Maybe his eyes were wide because Len’s suddenly were too. Were they boyfriends? Had he missed a memo? His heart was suddenly fluttering in his chest. “I mean—yes, uh, boyfriend, are we—I mean we can be—I think I’d like to—I just didn’t realize that you—since when have—”

He couldn't decide if he was saving himself or digging his own grave but Len had looked nervous then incensed then a scary kind of calm, all in the space of a second. He stopped stroking and moved forward, dropped his hands on either side of Barry’s head and leaned over him, definitely, unambiguously predatory now. “Do you mean to tell me, Barry Allen, that you _didn’t realize we were dating_?”

He swallowed. “Um…”

“Oh Barry,” Len’s voice was low, and dark, and he was leaning in next to Barry’s ear and it _did things_ to him. “I’m going to make sure you _can’t_ forget it. You or anyone else.”

And then Len was pulling back and dropping down between his thighs, spreading his legs then kissing and sucking each thigh, and not gently. Barry fisted the sheets and spread his legs further while also whimpering because damn his flesh was sensitive there but it also felt good, too good, when Len—when his _boyfriend_ —nuzzled the tender skin, hint of stubble scraping and then licking a path upward before finding a new location to suck out a bruise. He was on the edge of vibrating already, hard to keep still, and Len licked from the junction of his thigh and hip straight to his balls and then up to the tip of his cock and he bucked upward, crying out Len’s name.

“Not so fast, Scarlet.”

“Fuck, Len, just—”

“Roll over.”

Len moved back to let him and he did without hesitation, the other crossing the room to grab supplies and drop them on the bed next to him. Barry pushed up onto his knees and arched his back, blushing at feeling exposed but comfortable enough with Len by now to enjoy it. He felt hands on him, sliding over his hips, ass checks, pulling them apart so Len could drizzle cool drops of lubrication over his sensitive entrance and he shivered at the sensation. He felt two fingers run circles around it, gathering up the slickness and then one digit _slowly_ pressing in.

“C’mon, Len,” his voice sounded like a whine even to himself, “You know I can take _more_.”

“I also know it drives you mad when you have to be patient. Consider this punishment for not realizing that when a guy gets flowers delivered to your work, it’s kind of a sign, Scarlet.”

Oh right, the flowers. Well in his defense—no there was no real defense. He shuddered as the finger inside him crooked and pressed gently against his prostate before sliding back, then in again, a gentle rhythm that was accomplishing the goal of driving him mad alright.

“You didn’t— _ah_ —say that— _fuck that’s good_ —you didn’t say you wanted to be boyfriends! I thought you were— _AH!_ ”

Len skipped two fingers and jumped straight to three, pressing all of them in at once in a hard thrust that had him stretching, groaning. It was still too slow but fuck it was good.

“Are we so juvenile we had to have a conversation about labels, Barry?” Len didn’t sound angry, thank god—there was a bit of steel in his voice but it was mostly softened by the heat, the slightly breathy quality that meant he was enjoying this too, even as Barry was gasping under his fingers.

“I like… _hah_ … labels. Can you—just, _yesss_.”

Len’s other hand had been holding his hip in place and came around to grip him. But fuck, it was just the tip, sliding his thumb around the end and Barry’s hands clenched and unclenched in the sheets. “You’re _evil_.”

His lover chuckled behind him, and then Barry felt him leaning over his body and kissing his shoulders, sucking over some of his earlier marks to cement them in place, make them last longer. He’d tested this before, what it took make a hickey last for more than an hour, and it had been ridiculous but also _so_ good when he’d done it. Clearly, he was putting that knowledge to use now, not that Barry was about to complain at this point. It was starting to feel like sensory overload but he loved it when Len took him apart like this.

He felt those lips brush over his back, his shoulder blades and then Len’s hands receded and he whimpered. He was about to protest but Len shushed him, and he glanced to the side to see him opening a condom. Thank god, finally. He angled himself up and watched as Len stroked himself a few times before rolling it on, loving the look of the other’s cock, how wide it was when he was hard, swollen and heavy in his hand, flushed tip. His mouth watered a bit at the sight and he caught Len smirking at him and grinned back. Len knew he loved his cock and he really wasn’t ashamed of it.

Then the other gave him a quick swat to his ass cheek and he laughed even while it tingled and dropped his head between his shoulders, arched his back and felt the tip, slick with lube, press against his entrance. He always loved and hated this part. Loved because it felt so good, hated because Len would go so slow on the first thrust in, savoring each inch, spreading Barry out until he almost couldn’t breath it was so good. Like he was doing right now. Fuck it was good, breathing half in gasps already.

“ _Please_ , Len.”

He felt gentle fingers caress his sides and he shuddered, his body twitching and clenching around Len, making them both groan. He did it again, dragged his fingers down Barry’s sides and made Barry’s body spasm around his cock.

“ _Fuck_ , Barry.”

He half-chuckled but it turned into a moan as Len pressed in the last inch, seating himself full in Barry and settling his hands on his hips. He set up a slow rocking movement almost immediately and Barry was pushing back, in time with him, wanting him deeper on each thrust, gasping each time he felt Len’s cock press against his prostate. It was on every movement, the thickness of the other man filling him so completely, the angle so good that each drive of Len into his body sent fireworks off behind his eyelids, made him moan and press back, wanton and wanting more.

And then Len’s hands were moving, coming to lean more fully over Barry, until their bodies were in line and close enough that Len could kiss his ear and suck on the lobe. One hand came up to the back of his neck and then he felt fingers brushing through his hair. The grip tightened around the strands then and pressed Barry’s head down into the mattress. He moaned at the adrenaline it spiked, the endorphins it released into his system, pressing his hips back quicker, becoming less of a rhythm and more of a desperate snap back. He felt something cool, it felt like it must be Len’s fingernails, slide over the back of his neck in a looping pattern and it made him shudder. Then that hand retreated and was replaced by lips in a gentle and fleeting kiss, the other hand still tight in his hair, Len’s body totally enveloping his own as the man thrusted deep inside him. It was so good and he was so close and he just needed—

“Yes, fuck, please—I—!”

His hand had _finally_ come to grip Barry’s cock again, achingly hard, and he let out the most desperate noises as Len pulled long strokes along it. His hand was swift and sure and everything Barry needed, swirling around the precum at the top and gathering it to stroke back down and _fuck_ —

“That’s it, Barry, cum for me, cum while I'm inside you,” his voice was hoarse and thick with need and Barry was _done_. He cried Len’s name, face still pressed to the mattress, hips snapping back as he impaled himself on the other’s cock, shuddering himself out into his lover’s hand, quaking.

Then Len gripped both his hips and slammed forward, deep thrusts that made Barry shudder from the aftershocks, pressure against his sensitized prostate, letting out little gasps, encouraging Len, “yes— _ah_ —Len— _yes_.” And then the other was groaning low and swearing, hands clenching so tight against his hips as he emptied himself, seated to the hilt inside Barry. 

They relaxed in the afterglow for a few minutes, sweaty and sated.

Then the comfortable quiet was broken as his phone went off and it was Cisco. He waved it at Len to indicate he should be quiet. The other man waved his hand in acknowledgment and there was a curious smirk tugging at the corners of his lips all of the sudden.

“Hey, Cisco—what’s up?”

“Hey man, we need you back the lab, ASAP.”

“Great, I’ll be there in a second.”

He hung up and started to apologize to Len even as he was pulling on his suit, but Len was shaking his head and definitely smiling about something.

“Oh don't worry about me, Barry, go and _have fun_ with your friends.”

He definitely looked suspicious but Barry didn’t have time to worry about that, though he wished he had time to shower. Still, he whipped back to the lab in a flash, worried until he ran in and—

“SURPISE!”

It was the STAR labs crew—Wells, Cisco, Caitlin, and they were holding a… cake? And there were… decorations up? Streamers?

“Wha—”

“Barry!” Cisco was grinning, “Today is the anniversary of the day our lab brought you here. Not that you were awake for it, but we thought we would celebrate. You know, a lab-anniversary? Labiversary?”

They were all smiling and Barry felt his chest relax, smiled too. “No way! You guys—this is so sweet!”

Caitlin stepped forward to hug him, “We thought it would be a nice surprise, and just for the four of us, you know? A lab-exclusive to celebrate!”

He smiled at them all, genuinely excited. “You shouldn’t have! Here, just let me put on some regular clothes—” he whipped to the other room and back, pulling on one of the many outfits he kept on hand at the lab, a t-shirt and some jeans. He walked back through the doorway and back toward Cisco, who was suddenly giving Barry a sidelong glance, head tilting to the side, eyebrows climbing.

“We weren’t _interrupting_ anything, were we?”

And Barry followed the direction of Cisco’s eyes and his face flushed with heat. His hand slapped to the side of his neck to cover the marks but the damage was done. “Uh, no, I uh, I mean that is—”

“Barry, my man! Who’s the lucky girl?!”

He was flailing a bit and he really should have thought this through. And oh, oh no, with Len’s little stalking game he _must_ have known about this little party and this was a setup, the _bastard_. No wonder he was smiling so much.

“I’ll just go find a scarf, or a turtleneck, just give me a quick—“ but of course, he turned around and then Wells, who had rolled over with Cisco, took the opportunity to speak.

“Mr. Allen, why does it say ‘Property of Cold’ on the back of your neck?”

Barry was going to _kill_ his boyfriend. 


End file.
